FMA: Riza's Mark
by ComicalDetective567
Summary: From my DA account. I HAVE NOT WRITTEN ANYTHING THIS DARK AND SHOWED IT TO THE PUBLIC. I AM SO HAPPY WITH MYSELF *Accepts plastic award* Anyway, I don't own FMA, Riza, or alchemy.


It was always the same every Father's Day. Riza came home, with her heavy schoolbag slumping on her shoulder, filled with books and papers. It also included a Father's Day gift she'd made at school. She knew there was no point in giving it to her father. He was too wrapped up in his alchemy studying to even make her some dinner or even just to ask her how her day had been. Whenever she asked him, he didn't even acknowledge her. Riza couldn't really describe how it felt to see her friend's fathers run up to their daughters after school and hug them, then walk with them while holding their hands. Riza just walked home the short distance to her house, and quietly pottered about making her food, and doing her homework, and running errands for people on the street. Any money she got for it, she spent it on a small treat, like a bar of chocolate, or a hair bobble that she particularly liked.

One night, she had something done to her that she had never expected her father to do. She was fourteen, and had had her dinner, done her homework, and was sitting on the old rickety chair in the kitchen. Her hair was short and bobbed, the fringe spiked and dipping over her left eye, glowing a rich caramel, and her eyes were as clear as a summer sky and as brown as an autumn leaf. She had had numerous requests scrawled requests from the boys in her class asking her for dates, or 'things'that needed doing for them. Riza never replied. She just focused on her schoolwork and homework. Her grades were the best in the year. She broke out of her thoughts as she heard her father calling her.

"Riza, Riza? Can you come here please?"  
"Yes, Father."

She slid off her chair and ran up the stairs. Slowly entering her fathers room, she saw him sitting bent over his desk, with a morass of papers stacked up next to and around him, and an old pen in his hands. The whole room was lit by the dim glow of a flickering candle. She padded forward and stood near to him. She felt uneasy, and slightly sick with nerves. Her father turned to her, and she flinched, her hands clasped behind her back. "My daughter... yes, you will be perfect for it..." he mumbled to himself. "Riza, please could you lie down on the bed, face down." he asked her. Riza trailed to the bed. "And take off your shirt." Riza did as she was told, her body shaking. She lay down on the width of the bed, her head hanging, and her feet and legs dangling. She felt her blood run boiling hot, then freezing cold. Thoughts raced through her head, the main one being '_What the hell does he want to do to me?_' She heard the chinking of something that sounded like a compass, or a piece of glass. And the rustling of paper. Then, her blood ran to ice, and her body went into shock.

"_He's going to use me as a notebook for his transmutation secret of flame alchemy!_"

She heard her fathers' footsteps padding on the floor, getting closer towards her. "Stay very still, my child. This will only last a few moments..." Riza gasped, then let off a ragged scream as she felt something sharp and cold pierce her skin. It ripped through her flesh, and she yelled and wailed and cried and screamed. She felt warm liquid running down her back, and looking over with wobbling vision, saw a pool of blood soaking through the bed sheets. It was over in a few moments, like her father had said, but a ripping, spreading, unquenchable, _burning_ pain was searing through her back, ebbing through her muscles and tissue. She heard her father laugh, and say gleefully "The culmination of my lifelong dream... _the secret to Flame Alchemy_!" He laughed maniacally, while Riza sobbed quietly into the bed sheets, her tears looking like silver stars.

Eight years later, she was in the shower, and constantly being reminded of that day. The day that would never cease to leave her thoughts. The day she became one with the truth of the alchemy that turned good men to madness. It was a burden to bear. Her burden to bear.


End file.
